


Six Months

by Mycroffed



Category: Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: I don't know anything about his grandfather, I just gave Jack words, M/M, Nowhere close to real life, Things that I was feeling, starts kinda sad then goes to happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:36:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5030410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mycroffed/pseuds/Mycroffed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack needs a bit of support when he realizes it's been six months since his grandpa died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Months

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very specific 'write so you feel better' fic. These are merely /my/ feelings, put into Jack's mouth. I don't think that I'll ever write another fic about these two, but last night, they were the characters I had been reading most about that day and they came most natural apparently.  
> Also, I wanted to see if I could pull off an Irish accent (in writing). Did I?
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, kudoing and commenting! I hope you enjoyed it.

Six months.

It had been six months since his grandfather had died.

Jack hadn't told anyone about this - of course not, it was none of their damn business, now, was it? He had taken a week off, blaming it on just needing some airing, some distance from Youtube and all, but in reality, he was just having a bit of a struggle. Even though it was better than it had been five months ago - he could talk about his grandfather without tearing up, he could remember him in the good ways, like everybody had told him he would - but he still had his obituary close. Sometimes, at random moments throughout the week, he'd take it out and look at it. Read it. See what people had written about his grandfather - he had written a small piece himself. And even though he had accepted that he was gone, he still missed him.

And those were the moments that he teared up. He was always alone when that happened, but after those, when he felt a bit better - and wasn't going to cry anymore - he tried to reach out for his friends. Well, one friend in particular. He'd tweet Mark, like he had done so many times.

(The last time he'd skyped with Mark had been two months ago, when he had realized he couldn't remember what his grandfather sounded like. It had felt as if the memories were slipping through his fingers and he hated that feeling.)

He'd timed it perfectly. It was around noon for Mark and it wasn't even close to bedtime for himself. His two videos were out and uploaded, all the recording was done. He could take all the time he needed for his meltdown, in case it would come. (He wasn't too sure if it would come, but he was prepared nonetheless.)

"Hey, Jack, what's up?" Mark's smile was the same as always as he started the skype chat. "Are you alright?"

"Hey, Mark..." He sighed and looked into the webcam of his laptop. He was pretty sure that the American could see, with one look, how bad Jack was feeling that exact moment. "Can we talk?"

"Of course, dude, you don't have to ask. You know I'll always talk with you." If Mark had been there in person, Jack was sure that he'd received a supporting pat on the shoulder or a hug or something. Or so he liked to think. "What's on your mind?"

"I dunno, I just... I've been t'inkin' 'bout my gran'pa." The Irishman sighed. "I miss 'im, Mark. Not every day, but... every once in a while, ya know? I take out the silly t'ing and... Well, I can't help but t'ink 'bout 'im, ya know?"

"That's okay, Jack. Look, I know what it's like to lose someone close to you. And you know it gets better, right? Time heals all wounds. That's a saying for a reason. I know it feels horrible at some times, but last time you told me this funny story about how he had once landed into a decorative pool outside a concert building?"

That got a sad laugh out of Jack. "Yeh, I remember. I wasn't even alive back then. All before my time."

"I wish I could give you a hug, 'cause that's pretty much all you need right now, but hey, you can always call me, even if it's in the middle of the night, alright? Promise me you'll tell me if something happens."

"Jeez, Mark, where did that come from? Are ya alright?" Jack narrowed his eyes at the American. "Ya know the same counts for ye, right? Just text me, call me, whatever ya feel most like. Do it."

"Are you quoting a meme at me, dude?" Mark tried to lighten up the situation, something which Jack didn't disagree with.

The man made a smile appear on his face before he started shouting "Do it! Just do it!" into the camera. The call was ended with laughter coming from both sides.

When Jack went to bed later that evening, he felt better, relieved. He was glad that he had called Mark, because - even though the American hadn't physically been there - he had felt comforted, the same way he would've felt if Mark would've wrapped his arms around him in real life. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.


End file.
